


We'll Make Pretend That You And Me Lived Ever After Happily

by VeryImportantDemon



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catholic Character, Character Study, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles Xavier is a Sweetheart, F/M, Gen, He's also a great brother, Heavy Angst, How Do I Tag, Internal Conflict, Internal Monologue, Kurt is sweetheart, M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Post X-Men: First Class, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), Post-X-Men: Days of Future Past, Raven cares, Raven is Kurt's mom, Raven really misses her son, Raven-centric, Seriously though Kurt is adorable, She misses him, it takes places a little after first class up to after apocalypse, she's just bad at showing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeryImportantDemon/pseuds/VeryImportantDemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mystique tries to avoid Germany. Germany has bad memories. Germany is where she gave birth to her son. Germany is where she had to leave him. Germany is where her son died. But sometimes, she has to visit. <br/>She is traveling through Munich when she sees a flier advertising a circus. She hasn't been to a circus since she was 11 years old with a bright-eyed telepath who still saw good, who still saw the glass as half full. <br/>She envies them. <br/>The flier is declaring that anyone and everyone should come see the mutant, Nightcrawler, who will astound, amaze, and entertain. She crumples up the flier up and throws it in the nearest garbage can. <br/>She does not attend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We'll Make Pretend That You And Me Lived Ever After Happily

**Author's Note:**

> I was so enthralled by the idea of Raven as Kurt's mom in the movies, so I started to write this. It was supposed to be short, just a little bit of Raven musing on Kurt after meeting him, but then it kind of developed a mind of its own and became this monster. I'm very, very proud of it, and I hope you'll enjoy it, too!   
> Translation guide is at the end.  
> Title comes from the Twenty One Pilots song 'House of Gold'.

She is passing through Munich in the month of December. She tries so hard to avoid Munich, especially in December. Her son, her beautiful baby boy, was born in December.

Mystique's heart tightens. She tries not to miss him, what they could have had, but in December, especially in Germany... It is hard. He was so, so beautiful when she had him. He was absolutely perfect, and she had to leave him to die alone, and cold, and crying, and- 

She tries not to think of her son.

* * *

She tries not to think of his father, either.

* * *

 

She could not save her lover or her son, so she saves the others.

* * *

It is 1973 when she moves alongside her brother and another old friend to rescue Erik, to stop the Sentinels. 

Her son would be 8 this year. He should be playing on the Xavier Estate's large grounds, climbing trees, teleporting, shifting, learning, growing, praying, but he isn't doing any of these things.

He's lying in the ground somewhere. 

She hopes, if there is a God, that he took pity on her son. Even though he was hers and she sinned terribly, maybe... He was so young. He had done nothing wrong, nothing at all. 

She took comfort in hoping God could care for him where she could not.

* * *

It is 1973 and her son would be 8 years old when she finds the file. The first picture is of a red-skinned mutant with a long, curled tail, even though it doesn't show it. There was a time when she knew that body better than her own.

She has long known he is dead, but she still hates that she cries when she reads his file. She hates that Azazel never knew their son. She hates that she couldn't save either of them. She hates that her son had to die. She hates she hates she hates -

She hates that she is weak. 

* * *

 

It is 1973 and her boy would be 8 years old when she kisses Hank again. She remembers _mutant and proud_ , she remembers telling him he was beautiful, she remembers that they could have had something together, she remembers the taste of his lips like it was the coffee she had with her breakfast this morning.

He even tastes a little bit like her old lover had. 

As he usually does, her son appears in his mind. Beast is on top of her, kissing her, and then she's on top of him and she feels close to another mutant, another human being, for the first time since her son.

Her son... What would he have thought of Beast? What would Beast have thought of him? A strange trio they would have made, all three a bright shade of blue. 

A strange trio they would have made, but it wasn't meant to be. 

A lot of things weren't meant to be, like Beast - Hank - racing her young son around the house, laughing and making sure he's keeping up before he teleports - he had to have gotten that from his father - onto his other father's shoulders. Her son giggling and teleporting all over the house at bath time, evading his laughing mother, wasn't meant to be. Family dinners gathered around the large dining table weren't meant to be. Charles Xavier setting her son in his lap and pushing him around in his wheelchair wasn't meant to be. Saying bedtime prayers next to her son's bed wasn't meant to be. Hank and Raven - not Beast and Mystique, _Hank and Raven_ \- curled up against each other, biting, licking, kissing, making love in the early darkness, not just having sex, making _love_ -

She tries not to think about what could have been. It hurts too much. She simply holds Hank and fucks him and tries to feel close to someone again.

She tries not to think of her son.

* * *

Charles would have loved him, she thinks one day, one day after the scruffy man from the future is gone and Erik is, too. 

Charles... Her brother... He would have held his hands out, taken the child from her and loved him. He would have told her son beautiful stories about beautiful people. Charles would have protected him like one of his own. Charles would have loved his nephew, following him all around the house in that cursed wheelchair, playing all manner of games with him.

Playing like they had done as children, free of worry, free of fear.

Oh, god, Charles would have loved him.

* * *

It is Mother's Day, and she is again remembering what she couldn't have. 

She remembers when he was first born. She had done it alone, the birth. Hidden away. She couldn't let anyone else see him, for it was a time, a place, that wasn't so friendly to mutants. 

She remembers crying when she held him the first time.

She remembers crying, the tears hot and sticky and wet on her cheeks. She remembers crying because her son... He was so beautiful. He was blue, just like her. His three indigo fingers were curled slightly, limp and warm against her breast. His tail was short but strong, curled up along his back. She remembers when his eyes opened the first time and he looked at her. His eyes were so warm, and kind already, so sweet, and he... He trusted her.

She remembers crying because she wanted so desperately to protect him.

She remembers crying because this world wouldn't be so kind to him, and she wouldn't be able to protect him.

Her son is gone, and she cannot be his mother. She wouldn't even deserve the title were he here.

She isn't a mother, she isn't his mother, but she feels like one.

* * *

 

She remembers, too, when he was born, nursing at her breast because she had nothing else to give him. He looked up at her with his big doe eyes and gurgled happily, blinking. His tiny tail waved slightly in the cool night air, and Raven smiled. (She didn't feel like Mystique around him. Mystique was - is, still - a stage name. A persona. With her son, she was just Raven.) "Hello, little one," she said softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He was so small, so fragile. He looked like her, so like her that she could see herself in his eyes, the curve of his face. "Hello..." 

Her son gurgled again, pulling his tail closer to her as she stroked his cheek with her finger. He curled his tail around her finger, and it was strong. It was so, so strong, like he would have to be. She wished he didn't have to be, but he would.

She laughed, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "Oh, darling," she said softly. He chirped softly, a happy noise. Oh, he was such a happy baby... He barely cried at all. 

"I love you so much," she told him. "I love you so, so much. So much more than you'll ever know." 

He wound his tail tighter around her finger, but it didn't hurt her. Not all all. 

* * *

Sometimes, when she is lonely, she wraps a string around her index finger, closes her eyes, and imagines it's his tail. 

* * *

 

Eventually, she opens her eyes and throws the string away. 

She tries not to think of him. It hurts her too much.

* * *

 

His birthday rolls around again, another year he would have had if he had not been hers. 

He would have been 9 years old. 

She buys a single cupcake in a dingy bakery from a shopkeeper who doesn't speak English. She takes it back to her motel room and sets it on the nightstand. She looks at it for quite a while before she swallows, breathes in, and throws it in the garbage.

* * *

 

Mystique tries to avoid Germany. Germany has bad memories. Germany is where she gave birth to her son. Germany is where she had to leave him. Germany is where her son died. But sometimes, she has to visit. 

She is traveling through Munich when she sees a flier advertising a circus. She hasn't been to a circus since she was 11 years old with a bright-eyed telepath who still saw good, who still saw the glass as half full. 

She envies them. 

The flier is declaring that anyone and everyone should come see the mutant, Nightcrawler, who will astound, amaze, and entertain. She crumples up the flier up and throws it in the nearest garbage can. 

She does not attend.

* * *

She takes another mutant, one of so many, to Caliban. This mutant, this boy, he is someone's brother, someone's son. He isn't her brother or her son, but he is someone's, and she wants to spare another mother, another sister, from this pain she feels.

But he isn't her son, and Mystique feels so selfish when she thinks she would rather this boy be gone and hers in his place. 

She doesn't feel bad about thinking this at all.

* * *

It is December again, and as much as she tries not to, she remembers her son. 

Snow dusts the streets and covers the rooftops, and it is when she brushes a few flakes from her eyelashes that she sees the building. It is a church, the steeple soaring gracefully above the rest of the buildings. It isn't just any church, however. It is a Munich church, because somehow she always ends up in Munich in December.

She thinks she's drawn here by a need to repent. A need to make herself feel pain for what she did to her son. She brought him into the world only for him to die. 

She swallows and pushes the doors open with one hand. 

She selects a pew in the back of the church, as far back as one could go. It's a large church, so she can't make out the features of the figure on the crucifix. She is alright with that. She doesn't know if God even wants her here. 

She takes a deep breath as she pulls the kneeler down. She carefully slides down onto it, her head bowed. For a moment she fumbles with her hands, unsure of what to do with them. Eventually, she folds them like she's seen people do. "Well, I, um... It's been a while," she says weakly. She pauses for a moment, chewing on her lip, before she speaks again. "I've, uh... Come to ask a favor, if there's anyone up there listening to me."

She swallows and after a beat, she sheds the skin that wasn't hers. Pale white melts away and she's blue again. Her blonde hair retreats and turns a brilliant shade of orange-red. She's not a pasted-on face anymore. She's Raven.

"It's from me," she says again. "The real me. It... It might be to late, but..." She tapers off again. She lifts her head up, locking eyes with the figure on the crucifix. They call him Christ, she thinks. Lord. He is merciful, yes? She hopes he'll hear her, if he really is up there.

"Please," she says, but her voice cracks and she stops. After a few moments, she decides to start again. "Please," she says, her voice low and not so steady. "Please... Take care of my son. I couldn't, I failed him, but maybe... Please take care of him. And if you can... If it's not too much trouble..." 

Her voice breaks again and she swallows, a single tear streaking down her cheek. "Tell him his mother loves him and she... She misses him so much."

Raven isn't sure how long she stays there on the kneeler, but eventually she feels a presence come over her. Something warm, something kind, something... Comforting. She feels heard. But maybe she's just feeling what she wants to feel.

She leans back, now sitting on the wooden bench. She swallows again, swallows back her tears, and curls up in a ball on the bench, her arms as her pillow. "I'm so sorry," she whispers. "Oh, baby, I'm... I'm so sorry..." She squeezes her eyes shut and slowly falls asleep.

She wakes before the sun, and throws back up her pale skin and blonde hair before she leaves the church.

Wherever her son is... She hopes he knows how sorry she is.

* * *

 

It is yet another Mother's Day, and Raven hates it. 

She buys herself a dozen roses, brings them back to her motel room, and she burns them.

* * *

 

It's not fair, she thinks as she enters the store, pulling her coat up around her neck. It's not fair that he never got to live and she has lived so much. It isn't fair that she is still so young when he never got the chance.

She heads for the card section and browses just briefly before she finds one that declares Happy Birthday and is covered in birds. He would have liked to fly. She debates buying a Christmas card for him, and eventually does. She hasn't celebrated Christmas since 1962, with Charles, but she makes a point to send her brother a card every year. He so loved it when they were children. It was an escape from the horrid world around them

She selects a card for Charles and slides it into an envelope but leaves her son's out. The woman at the cash register smiles and asks Raven if the card is for her son. She is silent for a few moments before she says it is. The woman laughs and asks how old her boy is. "13," Raven tells her and she grabs her bag and flees. 

She scribbles Westchester's address on the card in the envelope and simply writes Raven in the upper corner. She drops it in the first mailbox she sees and hopes it will get to him before Christmas. She clutches the other one in her hands and holds it close to her heart as she makes her way back to where she's staying. 

Raven closes the door behind her and locks it with a click. She sheds her favorite pale, blonde face and is Raven again, Raven alone in the motel. Raven, who should have her son at her hip. 

"I'm sorry," she says as she drops the card in the trash can. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... Happy Birthday," she adds weakly. She pulls the lighter out of her pocket, and she burns that, too.

Raven watches until there's nothing left but ash and the fire fizzles out.

* * *

 

She never forgets him. Every mutant she saves, every single one, she saves in his name. She saves them in the name of Eric Xavier. 

That's what she would have called him, if she ever had the chance. She would have called him Eric, and Xavier for her brother. She should have sang his name, every letter, the 'E', the 'R', the 'I', the 'C', over his cradle. She should have proudly introduced him to the rest of his family by that name. Even though they would never have been terribly normal, she would have liked to have called out, _Eric, time for dinner!_ She should have shouted _Eric Francis Xavier_ when he was in trouble. Charles should have chastised her for giving the boy the middle name Francis of all names, because _why would you do that to a child?_ She should have told him, smiling, that it's a family name. 

She should have called his name so many times, but she only ever says it to herself. 

Every mutant she saves, she saves for Eric Francis Xavier.

* * *

 

He should have been 16, Raven thinks, one day in December in 1981. He should be having his 16th birthday. He should be worrying about impressing girls or boys, worrying about relationships, learning to drive and not just teleport. He should be learning to control his powers even better, he should be learning to be strong and kind and good, but he isn't learning anything. 

He isn't learning anything because Raven gave birth to him and then she killed him.

* * *

 

It is 1982, in December, and Eric Francis Xavier should be 17 years old, but he isn't.

* * *

 

It's on his 17th birthday, in a secluded motel somewhere in New York, that she realizes she hasn't seen him since the day he was born 17 years ago. All these years, she's been mourning someone she's only seen once. She's mourning someone she hardly got to know. 

She hardly knows him, but she loves him so, so much. 

She sits up from where she's laying on her back on the bed and crosses to the bathroom, her bare blue feet sinking into the soft carpet. She stops in front of it, frowning, and looks at herself. Her real self. Maybe he would have looked like her...

Raven swallows and blinks. Maybe, just maybe... She blinks again, and she thinks about Azazel for the first time in years. She makes her face structure harder, makes herself taller. She sharpens her cheekbones and gives herself a tail. She gives herself red skin and dark hair 

Even after so long, it is still Azazel blinking back at her in the mirror. 

She sighs softly. Eric had gotten the tail and the slightly pointed ears from his father, but he'd gotten his eyes from her. She assumes he would've gotten her height, too. She makes herself blue again, shrinks a few inches. He hadn't looked as harsh as Azazel when she had known him. He was still masculine, but softer. Kinder. Sweeter. 

She blinks and gives herself her own eyes back. She changes the shape of her nose slightly and softens out the hard angles of Azazel's face. She shortens the length of the tail while she's at it, her eyes closed as she works. 

She shifts her arms, two of her fingers melting back into her hands. The three that remain and calloused and strong, like her palms. She keeps her hair dark but grows it out a bit, her bangs flopping to the side of her face, almost covering her right eye. 

Raven stops when she's done changing herself. She holds her breath for one second, two seconds, three, four. She's not sure how long she stands there, waiting, but eventually, finally, she opens her eyes. 

She sees her son, or what she imagines him to look like, staring back at her, wide-eyed. He's perfect, and beautiful. He's so, so beautiful. 

She reaches out with one three-fingered hand and touches the mirror, her - his - reflection. "Hello," she says, and she makes her voice slightly deeper and gives herself a German accent. He was born in Munich, after all. "Hello," she says again, and her heart almost breaks. She never got to hear his voice... 

"Hello, Eric Xavier," Raven says, in her own voice, and she wishes she couldn't see her lips moving in the mirror. It would make it feel more real. "It's so nice to meet you."

She pulls her lips into a grin and answers in Eric's voice. "Hello, Mother."

She lets out a choked sob and her knees buckle, her fingers streaking the mirror, and before she hits the ground, she's Raven again. 

"I love you," she says, her voice broken. "I love you, Eric, baby, I love you so much, I'm so sorry..."

She cries herself to sleep and she doesn't make herself look like him again.

* * *

 

 It is 1983, and in a few months, Eric would be 18. If he were still alive, he would be 18. 

* * *

 

She is taking another mutant to Caliban to get them far away when he leans over the counter and smiles at her. "Guess what Caliban has heard?" Mystique heaves a sigh. She's had it with his third person thing. 

"I'm not going to guess," she says, deadpan. "If it's a lead, tell me." 

Eric Francis Xavier, her heart tells her as it beats. For him.

Caliban smirks at her. "It is a lead," he says. "Of a sort. Caliban has heard of a... Fight club, of sorts. Between mutants. They are kidnapped and made to fight each other. If they refuse..." He mines firing a gun. "Boom."

Mystique stiffens. "How long have you known about his?" she demands. "Tell me. How _fucking long_ have you known?" She stops. "No, don't. I don't want to know. Where can I find it?" she demands. Caliban waves his finger. "Oh, no, Mystique. Not quite yet. Caliban has more..." He pauses, smiling devilishly. "News." 

Mystique curls her pale hand into a fist, her nails digging crescents into her palm. "Tell me," she says, her voice tight, "before I take your fucking head off." He smirks again. "Caliban has heard that they've acquired another mutant. Nightcrawler, they call him. He teleports, they say. They tell Caliban that he's blue, as well. They tell Caliban... That he looks like a demon."

Raven's entire world freezes. She is sure that, for at least a moment, her heart stops beating. She had never, never in 18 years, even considered the possibility that he could still be alive. Surely they had slain him, surely the cold had taken him, surely something had. He had been so small, so fragile, so beautiful. He had been too good for anything good to happen to him. And besides... Mystique never gets lucky. Why would she have thought she would when it really matters?

Eric, she thinks. Eric, Eric, Eric. Her son might still be alive. Her beautiful son might still be alive. 

"How old is he?" she demands, barely letting herself hope. Maybe, maybe... "Still a child," Caliban says, "but barely. Maybe... 18?" 

Her heart skips a beat, again, and then there is nothing but Raven, and, for the first time in years, hope. "Where the fuck is ring?" she asks, her voice even.

She has to see him for herself. She has to know.

* * *

 

She is in Berlin in less than a day. It doesn't take her long to find the ring. For something as blatantly illegal as pitting young mutants against each other, the officials seem to look the other way. The ring is fairly public, if one knows where to look. 

Mystique does. She is a woman on a mission, and nothing is going to sway her or slow her down.

She has to know if it's really him. 

She throws up her favorite blonde face as she slides down into Berlin's seedy underbelly. She holds her head up high, and she disguises the fact that her heart is pounding a million miles an hour in her chest. She looks like Mystique, tall and strong, but she feels like Raven.

If it really is him... Today... Today, she might finally meet her son.

* * *

 

The cage looms in front of her, huge and imposing. Any other day, she'd rip it down with her bare hands for what had happened to young mutants inside it. Today, for what they are having who may be her son do inside the chain-link walls? She could take it down with just a look.

She sees a flash of dark, dirty white. She squints slightly and realizes it's feathers. She takes another step and a mutant trapped in the cage like a bird comes into focus. It's a pair of wings on the back of a mutant - a mutant who's about to fight the one they call Nightcrawler.

She sees his eyes, and she feels a flash of fear. She doesn't know what he's been through, if he's even still alive, but she couldn't see the soft, sweet baby boy she lost ever being hard enough to fight a man who with that look it his eye.

All the way from Munich, the emcee claims, and he sounds so fucking _happy_ that Raven wants to strangle him, but Munich would be right. That is where she had him.

A circus, the man mentions. Maybe he had somehow survived and... No. She would not let herself speculate until she knew for sure that it was him. If it really was him, this Nightcrawler... And all those years ago she left him there, alone, to the clutches of that mob... What if he grew up thinking that his mother didn't love him? What if he grew up thinking she left him because he was different, because he was-

No. She would not let herself think about that. Not yet. Not yet. 

The only creature who could defeat an Angel, he says. She doesn't like where this is going, and she really wishes she could vault herself over the cage and throttle the stupid man with the microphone.

The man calls him a demon, and Raven bristles at that. There is no way that the sweet little boy who wrapped his tail around her finger could be a demon. The world crushes good intentions, but it couldn't have crushed that much good.

_"Ladies and gentlemen_ ," the man with the microphone greets in German, and Raven, the blonde Raven, pushes her way through the crowd as they wheel in the cage. It looks like a coffin with a hinged lid, chains holding it down. Even if it isn't her son in there, she is going to rip this place to pieces.

" _The amazing,_ " he calls the boy in the box as two other men - humans, she sneers in her mind, humans who don't care about the lives of the mutants they're destroying - begin to unlatch it. 

" _The fantastic,_ " and Raven dearly hopes that for maybe the first time in his life, he is right. 

The other mutant in the ring, the one they call Angel, backs up, flapping his wings and grinning. He's ready for a fight, clearly, and she doesn't know if the boy in the box will be.

" _NIGHTCRAWLER!_ " the man with the microphone screams, the two people beside the cage tilt it up, and Raven's heart speeds up. She's going to see him, after all these years, she's finally going to see him. _Nightcrawler_ rings in her ears as the doors open and-

He falls out. 

She hasn't seen him since he was a baby, since he was born, but deep in her heart, she knows. She knows it's him, it's the boy she would have called Eric Francis Xavier, because just months ago on his 17th birthday, that is the face she saw in the mirror. He wouldn't remember her, but a mother never forgets. 

He's wearing a long red coat and black pants and he has a tail and black hair and three fingers on each hand and he's so, so beautiful. 

She's glued to the spot, mesmerized. She can't stop watching him. Her son. Her boy. Eric. 

It's him. It's really truly him, her son. He's alive and well and although he's here, forced to fight for his life, he's here. He's alive. He's alive. _He's alive._  

Her son scrambles backward in fear as the one they call Angel lunges at him, stabbing with the tip of his wing. Her son teleports - he can teleport, and she feels a flash of pride - with a puff of dark blue smoke across the ring dodging the blow and reappears clutching to the walls. He shouts in shock as the cage shocks him and he falls to the ground again. 

_"High voltage!_ " the man with the microphone laughs in German. " _Sorry, mutants_!" 

He isn't, and as soon as Raven gets her son out of here, somewhere safe, she's going to find him and kill him. 

Her eyes flick upward and she sees the source of the electricity, sparks flying off of it. She can end it. She can end this now, she can save her son. 

Angel lunges at her son, at Nightcrawler, at Eric, and he launches himself into the air, flipping and teleporting away again. 

She acts now. She will not let this go on any longer. She could not raise him, but she will save him. 

Raven forces her way through the crowd again, making her way to a lower level. The breaker should be down there. She can throw it and overload the grid and then she can get him out. 

She pulls herself away from the fight because she wants nothing more than to just look at him, to drink in her son. 

Well, that's a lie. She wants to free him, to meet him, more. She wants more. 

There's a man with a large gun guarding the breaker, and she almost smiles. Oh, this is going to be so easy... " _Did you get lost, little mouse?_ " he asks her in German, and if she had not been so consumed with the need to free her son, to know him, she would have been angry at the term of endearment. She would have called her son _myshka_. She would have called him mouse in his father's tongue. " _The fight is over there_ ," he adds, and she turns to look. She has to make sure he's still doing okay.

Angel is perched on the beam across the center of the ring, looking like he's attempting to step on her son but failing because the little mutant scampered underneath it and teleported to the other side, out of reach. 

_"And it's about to get exciting,"_ the man with gun adds with a grin. 

He doesn't understand how right he is. 

She looks back at him, tearing her gaze away from her son, and falsely smiles. She trails her hand delicately along his shoulder. _"Ah, you mean this?"_ she purrs in his tongue. He looks down the front of her dress and she takes her chance. She throws her elbow up and it connects with his face at a startlingly velocity, sending the large man sprawling. With him taken care of, she focuses on a more pressing problem. 

"You have to fight!" she hears someone - Angel, maybe? - shout. "You have to fight me!" 

She hopes Eric doesn't.

She skims the breaker console until she finds the switch that controls the electricity. She forces it down and throws it, and with a lot of dramatic sparking, most of her work is done.

She turns back to the cage, and she sees him teleport back and forth. He scampers away from the walls as they throw up blue sparks. He doesn't want to fight; anyone could see that in his eyes. But Angel shouts at him and lunges at him and eventually, he has to.

Oh, how she wishes he never had to fight. How she wishes he could live somewhere better. 

She sees her chance to intervene, and when the cage door is smashed open, she takes it. She strides towards him and speaks. "Come with me," she says, and she is all to aware of the fact that this is the first thing he will remember hearing her say. Come with me. Come with me. She wishes it wasn't that he remembers. She wishes he would have remembered _I love you_. 

He follows her. 

Without question, he follows her.

For some reason, her heart flutters. 

* * *

 

She steals a jacket from someone, someone she doesn't even care enough about to remember. But she has the jacket in her hand and she's turning to him, to make sure he's still there. To make sure this wasn't just a dream. 

He teleports them out of the ring, out of the building and into the alley above, and Raven feels her heart twist with pride. He's so good at it. He's so good, and likely learned it all himself.

If it hadn't been life or death, she would have relished in the fact that she is touching her son. Her hand is on his shoulder for the first time in almost 18 years. She is almost holding her son.

Her skin buzzes. 

It's him. It's really him.

It takes so much out of her to let him go, but she does. She grabs the jacket and skins it over him and tell him to get down.

Once again, he doesn't question her. He doesn't even ask why.

She transforms and she yells at the men and they turn away, and she allows herself to breathe. She lets him up, and he looks at her in awe, and for the first time, she hears Eric speak.

"You're her," he says, his accent thick. You're her. You're her. _You're her_. Her child's first words. _You're her_.

She wishes it didn't have to be that. She wishes he looked at her like a mother, not a war hero. Not that she was one, anyway. For just a moment, she freezes. 

_You're her._

"Come on," she manages to say. She's not really sure that's even what she actually said. She is too consumed by you're her, too consumed by the fact that the child she had lost 18 years ago is right here, right in front of her. "We need to get out of here."

Her heart thrums with the word. We. After all these years, _we_.

* * *

 

She takes him to Caliban, next, and she realizes as she does so that she won't be able to keep him with her. 

All of these years wishing, dreaming, hoping to one day have him back in her arms, and... And she finally has him, he's right here, her son, and she won't be able to keep him with her. It's too dangerous with her. It's too dangerous because the world doesn't see her as Raven, as a mother, a sister, a friend. They only see her as Mystique. Mystique has enemies, enemies that would do anything to see her fall. 

Enemies that would take her son down to get to her. 

Enemies that would tear her down, brick by brick, like a tower in a hurricane, by ripping Eric apart right in front of her eyes.

No one can know he is her son, not even him. 

She can't keep him with her. 

She's dreamed, all these years, of one day maybe, maybe, getting to tell her son that's she's his mother. She knew that she never would, but now that she has him back... She can't keep him with her. She has to send him away again. 

It is the second hardest decision she's ever had to make. 

Oh, God, she's going to miss him so much.

* * *

 

She leads her son down the stairs into Caliban's 'office' and as she does so, he bombards her with questions. 

She relishes in hearing his voice.

He wants to come with her. He wants to follow her into danger, into certain death. She's just saved him from peril, and still, he wants to follow her into the storm. 

She is so tempted to tell him yes, but she pulls the walls around her heart up and hardens herself and tells him no.

It's one of the hardest things she's ever done, and she's done so, so many hard things.

* * *

 

The look in Caliban's eyes as they barter over the price of safe travel for the mutant tells her that he knows. He knows more than Raven would like. She glares at him and almost snaps, but manages not to. He asks a higher price, knowing damn well that because he's her blood, she'll do anything to keep him safe.

She pushes more money across the counter and looks up across the room. They're prepping the camera and telling her son something she can't hear. He looks up at the lens, his blue lips curling back to reveal white teeth, and he beams brightly for his passport photo. 

He's so beautiful, so happy even after everything he's been through. She wonders where he got that, because it certainly wasn't from her. It is something entirely of his own.

She almost smiles. 

Then, Caliban mentions Erik.

Erik. It's always Erik, isn't it? It always comes back to Erik. 

She turns on her heel and leaves the money on the table to pull her son back into a war he has no business being a part of. 

"Come with me, Crawler," she says, and she has to force herself not to say Eric, _myshka_ , baby. Her tongue itches to, but she holds it back. 

He yelps as he scampers after her, who's taking large strides up the stairs and away, away, into a war. "That is not my name," he tells her, and she wants to say no, it's not, you're Eric, Eric Francis Xavier, but she doesn't. "Nightcrawler is just a stage name, _ja_?" he says, following her. Her baby... Her baby following her into anything. He'll follow her to Westchester, to his uncle, his family.

He opens his mouth and his name is Kurt.

Her son is called Kurt. 

* * *

When they arrive at Westchester, she knows her son must be tired, because they've traveled much in the past few days, and quite a bit of it was teleporting. He has to be tired to his bones, but he doesn't show it. He's still happy, still smiling. Still...

She's proud to call him hers, even if he doesn't know. She calls him hers in the privacy of her own mind. 

They're barely in the door when she sees something that could never be. Hank greets her with a smile and her heart twists, and she remembers when they made love years ago and she remembered all of the possibilities they could never have. 

They're talking and it feels like it's quickly going to escalate into an argument and Raven feels and she wishes she wasn't when her son wiggles into the conversation. "I'm blue!" he declares cheerily. Unwavering optimism, kindness, goodness...

That has to be all him, too. He couldn't have gotten that from her. 

She's reluctant to leave E- _Kurt_ alone, to let him out of her sight, but he isn't really alone. Her childhood home is bustling with students, her brother and her old lover's students, and two of them quickly take Kurt under their wings and lead him away. 

She hopes they take him away from the war.

* * *

 

All she has to say to her brother is it's Erik and she has his full attention. 

_Oh, Charles,_ she muses in the relative private of her mind. (He doesn't dig around in her thoughts unless it's necessary, but sometimes she projects just a little.) _You could never say no to him, could you? He's not good for you, you know._

Her poor brother. Being in love with Erik Lehnsherr would never end well. But there was something about them, tied so closely together, wrapped so tightly around each other, that she is sure they'll never come undone. Erik Lehnsherr would race halfway around the world to save Charles if the only payment he would get was death, and Charles Xavier would do the same.

_I know_ brushes against the farthest corner of her mind, and she knows it's him, but he keeps talking and they don't address it.

* * *

 

"Charles," she says, right before she's about to stand up and leave. She has to tell him, at least. Someone else has to know. If something should happen to her and Kurt should start to wonder, someone should know. 

"Mm..." he says, pulling his mind from whatever thought he was having. "Yes, Raven?"

He is the only one who still calls her Raven. She doesn't mind it so much anymore.

Her throat sticks and she starts again. "Charles," she repeats. She hasn't thought about telling him; she has no idea what to say. She prays the words will come, because he has to know. He deserves to know that his family, too, is bigger than he knows. Charles frowns slightly at her, but he's listening, she knows. 

"Do you remember Azazel?" she manages to say finally. Charles furrows his brow. "Of course," he says curiously. "But why-" She cuts him off. She has to say it now before she looses her courage. "You know the mutant I brought with me, the teleporter?" Charles nods slowly. "Yes," he says. "I touched his mind when he arrived. He's quite sweet, isn't he? What's he called... Kurt?"

Raven swallows past the lump in her throat. Yes, he is. He's so, so sweet. So kind. So brave. She doesn't deserve a boy like him. "Azazel died almost 19 years ago," she says. Talking of her lover doesn't hurt as badly as talking of her son, even though she has him back. The boy she brought here, Kurt Wagner... He is her son, but he is not the baby she last saw. The world chewed up Eric Francis Xavier and spit out Kurt, and he's still amazing. She's a little glad he's Kurt. Kurt is wonderful.

"Kurt, he's 18 this December. He's o-" She stops. His is as equal parts Azazel's as he is hers, but... "He's my son."

She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and she doesn't meet Charles' eyes. 

"He's my son," she continues, "and 18 years ago... This mob... I had to leave him, Charles," she says, and her voice breaks. "I had to leave him, I thought they killed him, I was sure he was dead, but-" She hiccups and suddenly realizes she's crying.

"18 years," she gasps. "I... I left him. For... For 18 years. He must've thought I hated him for being... For being-" She stops talking again, sinking into one of the armchairs in Charles' office. She buries her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. "I left him," she cries. 

Charles is there, slowly than he would have liked, but he is there, his hand on her arm. "Raven," he consoles, taking the reveal in stride. He's heard much stranger, and honestly had suspected some relation when he touched the young boy's mind. He had felt... Familiar, like a young girl he'd known so long ago, a young girl who offered him a hot chocolate.

"Raven," he says again. He lowers his hand, bracing himself on the wheelchair. He straightens his arms before lowering himself to the ground. His hand slips and he falls with a soft thud, the wheelchair skittering away across the office. He grunts softly but pulls himself into a position where he's sitting in front of the armchair. He takes his sister's arms and looks up at her.

"Raven," he says, a third time. "Raven, look at me," he says. "Look at me, please." Sniffling, she raises her head, wiping her eyes. Her hair is blonde and her skin is pale, but her eyes are still hers. 

"Really look at me," he says, and Raven blinks once, still wiping her tears before her pale skin fades to blue and her hair shifts to bright red. "It's going to be alright, Raven," he tells her. He leans up, taking her head in his hands, and wipes away her tears with his thumb. "It's going to be alright," he says again, and she smiles faintly.

Even without a mental nudge, she believes him. 

"But what if he hates me?" she says finally. "What if he..." She tapers off, and Charles smiles again. "Raven," he says. "That boy... You've met him, yes? Do you think he's capable of hatred?" 

Her brother does have a point.

"Now, bend down a bit, I can't reach," Charles says, and Raven gives a watery laugh. Even after so long, he still knows her. She leans her head down and he grunts slightly as he tries to pull himself up enough to meet her. He kisses her on the forehead, like he'd done when they were young, optimistic. Happy. 

He leans back and Raven speaks again, taking in a deep breath. "If something happens to me," she begins, but Charles stops her. "Nothing's going to happen to you," he tells her from the ground. "Nothing is going to happen to you, Raven, not while I'm here."

She shakes her head, swallowing. "But if something does," she insists. "If something does... Tell him, please. Tell him I'm so sorry and that I missed him..." She tapers off. "I missed him so much..." 

Charles pauses, waiting for her to finish before he speaks. "Tell him Eric," she says. "Tell him I would have called him... I would have named him Eric. E, R, I, C. I would have named him Eric Francis Xavier."

Charles smiles this time. "Why would you do that to him?" he says with a soft laugh, but his heart warms because she would have named her son after him. "Why would you name the poor boy Francis?" Raven laughs. She knew that was what he was going to say. "It's a family name," she tells him. 

"Alright," Charles says, still smiling. "I'll bear that in mind. But you're going to be fine, and when this is all over, you're going to tell him yourself."

She leans forward, pushing his messy dark hair back and planting a kiss on his forehead. "Oh, Charles," she says with a soft sigh. "Beautiful, kind, idealistic Charles. Thank you," she tells him. Charles shakes his head. "You don't have anything to thank me for," he says, but Raven cuts him off. "More than you know," she tells him before standing up. "Now, come on, let's get you up," she says. He obligingly allows her to push the wheelchair over and help him hoist himself up into it.

She hopes if, in the coming days, something happens to her family, it happens to her. Her brother, her son... They're too good. Too kind. 

The world needs them yet.

* * *

 

She hates seeing her brother in pain. She hates it. 

When they were children and someone would hurt him or make fun of him, he would be so good and turn the other cheek. He wouldn't fight back. But as soon as Charles was gone, Raven would turn right back around and knock them flat on their ass. She hates when he's in pain, so she tries to do all she can to remedy it. But there are some things she can't fix with fists. When Charles was awake as a young boy, crying and wondering why his mother didn't love him, why his stepfather hurt him, she couldn't fight his way out of it for him. 

She couldn't fight their way out of this. He'd never felt such power before, he says, and then his eyes go black and he's screaming and there's nothing for Raven to punch and she hates it. He had protected her from harsh words, from their mother and Cain, and she had protected him from bullies. 

But she couldn't fight a bully she couldn't see. She couldn't fight Cerebro. 

Havok takes care of it for her, and she's forever grateful. But her brother... He slumps to the side, drained, unconscious, and she makes a grab to help him, to protect him, but she can't. She'd failed him yet again, like she'd failed her son. 

A god has taken her brother, and she can't do a thing about it. A god. A _god_ has stolen away the best person she knows and she can't help him. A god has taken her brother, and he's taken Erik, too.

She hates Apocalypse. She _hates_ him. 

But she doesn't have time to reflect on her hatred, what he's done to Charles, to Erik because this is when the explosion rocks the building and there is nothing more she can do. 

* * *

 

When she blinks and she's on the lawn of the estate, the ruins of her first ever home before her, she suspects it is him. She hadn't met him personally, but she'd heard about the speedster. When she turns, there he is. 

His hair is slicked back and silver and his t-shirt advertises some band she hasn't cared enough to listen to. This is definitely him. She ignores him for the time being, her heart pounding, pounding, pounding. Apocalypse has Charles. He has Erik. He'd taken the school from he students who needed it. He'd killed Havok, and she feels something in her chest twist at that. Of all of the children on that craft that day, it's just her and Hank, now.

She stops. There's Hank. There's the speedster. She scans the yard and sees students standing up and milling about, murmuring to each other. She doesn't see blue. She doesn't see blue. _She doesn't see blue._

Her son is not here. 

She's just saved him, and now Apocalypse has stolen all of her family. She has nothing left now, nothing but memories and impossibilities. 

_Where's Kurt_ , she tries to say, to ask someone, anyone, but when she open her mouth, nothing comes out. _Where's Kurt,_ she tries again, but she can't speak. Nothing is working. Her brother is gone, Erik is gone, and now her son is gone, too. She hadn't even gotten the chance to tell him-

Her heart leaps into her throat at a low rumbling, and she feels joy when she sees the car.

Kurt.

* * *

 

She wants to tell him, right then and there, but it isn't the time. This isn't even close to being over, and she might still be lost yet. She doesn't want him to figure out he has a mother and then loose her. 

* * *

 

Scott is there, the Summers boy, Alex's brother, and he makes a beeline for the wreckage. His ever-loyal companions - the telepath and the teleporter, her son - follow him. 

He cries out. He's lost family, too.

Raven knows the feeling well.

* * *

 

Raven sees the helicopter, and she knows that it can't be good. 

She just doesn't know it is Stryker bad. 

She screams when she sees him, but just like she was with saving Charles, she like she was with saving her son, she's too late.

She barley has time to hope Kurt will be left alone, barely has time to know that's impossible, because she never gets lucky when it matters.

She's too late.

* * *

 

Raven wakes, and her heart soars because Kurt isn't with them and then sinks when she realizes they are in a cage. A cage, like the one her son had been forced to fight in like an animal.

They've caged mutants yet again. 

She turns and sees Hank, and he's blue. He's blue and furry and beautiful, and she's reminded of what could never be. 

It's not his choice, but he's Hank. He's the real Hank, and that's a step in the right direction. 

Maybe they both need to learn to love themselves a little more.

* * *

 

They say you can't love someone else until you love yourself first. Raven knows this to be false. She knows for certain, because she does not always love herself, but she loves Charles so much. She loves Kurt so, so much. Maybe she could love Hank, maybe she did love Erik. 

She loves them so, so much, that she forgets what hating herself feels like, because if that telepath, the greatest person she ever knew loved her, if that baby boy wrapped his tail tightly around her finger, if Hank loved her, how bad could she be?

* * *

Raven wonders out loud how they can escape this prison. She wonders about Erik, and that's when the speedster - his name is Peter, she thinks - speaks up. 

"He's my dad," Peter pipes up, and Raven's head spins back to face him. "What?" she says. She can't help it. Erik, with a child? It's a foreign notion. 

Peter lifts his hands up holding them level. "Well, he and my mom," he begins, lifting one hand slightly with each name. "They kind of-"

Raven cuts him off. "I know that," she snaps. She's going to need a word with Erik about him.

Apparently she isn't the only X-Man with a broken family.

She stops, thinking. In her mind, she's just called herself an X-Man.

* * *

 

She hears her brother next. They all hear him. Everyone everywhere is hearing him. 

But those words... They aren't his own. She knows because she knows for certain that Charles Xavier would never say these things. They aren't his words until the very end. The strong need to protect the weak... Of course that is him. Of course that's her brother. There's the Charles she knows and loves. 

She wonders if it hurts him to project so far, to so many. She wonders if he's okay. She wonders what Apocalypse is doing to him.

She wonders if Kurt can hear him too.

She wonders if any of them will make it out of this alive.

* * *

 

Someone has let something loose, because they can hear the rampage even from down here. She hopes that whatever it is, it leaves her family out of this.

* * *

 

When she sees Kurt hovering at the window, still blue and beautiful, she feels rage fill up her heart. If Stryker had brought him here, if Stryker had laid a finger in her son, she was going to break out of here and destroy everything he had built with her bare hands.

But he looks healthy, strong, where he stands. But what is he doing there? What is he-

He tries to speak to them, but it takes a few tries. Finally, he is able to master the intercom. He tells them to back away from the door, and on three, they are going to be freed. 

She smiles and if the situation hadn't been so dire, when he realizes he only has three fingers, she would have laughed. 

But then, on three, he's done it.

He's saved them. Her son has saved them.

* * *

 

Hank wanted a war plane, Raven tells him, and now he's got it, and a war with it. 

They both wish they had neither

* * *

 

They're bundled up in their flight suits, strapped into their seats on the plane. Her, Hank, the agent, Kurt, Scott, the telepath whose name she hasn't yet learned. It's strange, she thinks. Years and years ago, she'd been in this same position with children on either side, children who weren't children anymore, forced to fight. 

Isn't it ironic that she finds herself in the same position today. 

Scott seems to be in awe when she tells him that to Alex, Scott was always the one who was going to become someone, be someone, change the world. Alex had talked about Scott quite a bit back in the day. She knows what Scott is feeling, because she's felt it, too, when Charles confessed to her right after his college graduation that he always thought it was going to be her, the one who would change the world and he was just there to get her started.  

She wishes he were still here. 

She wishes Alex was here, with Sean and Angel and Charles and Erik, but somethings are just not meant to be.

* * *

 

Kurt asks her what happened to the other children that were with her that day.

She wishes she didn't have to tell him it was just her and Hank left. She wishes Kurt had been able to know them.

* * *

 

Raven thinks about telling him on the plane. 

Surely he'll make it out. He's so quick and smart and brave. But if she and Charles are both slain... There will be no one else who knows. No one else to tell him.

If he lives and she dies, maybe it's best he doesn't know. Maybe it's for the best he doesn't know he lost his mother. Maybe it's best that he never knew her. 

After all, he turned out wonderfully without her.

* * *

 

Scott tells her they can't all control their powers.

She grins and tells him it doesn't matter. 

* * *

 

Peter is there for his family. He's there for his father. 

Erik is there for his family. He's there for his dead wife and daughter. Raven thinks maybe he's there, at least a little, for Charles, too, a mutant who's suffered a terrible wrong.

Raven is there for her family. She is there for Charles Xavier and Kurt Wagner. 

* * *

 

She barely has time to wonder if Kurt's alright and hope dearly that he is. She's too busy trying to be someone she isn't. She's too busy trying to save them.

* * *

 

She can feel herself dying. 

Raven, optimistically, hopes Kurt will never know this feeling, but knows that one day he will.

She hopes it'll be fast.

* * *

 

When she figures out what they've done to Charles, when she learns of Apocalypse's plans for the best of all of them, she feels a fire ignited in her stomach. She wants to turn right around, wrap her hands - her blue hands - around his throat and feel his life slipping away.

No one touches her family. No one harms them on her watch.

No one.

* * *

 

The battle is over, and they're alive. They're all still alive.

Hank is there, present and himself. She can feel it from here. He's not hiding, not today. 

Scott is there, and in the aftermath of the battle, he looks so much like his brother. 

Jean, the telepath, she's alright, too.

The agent she never really cared for is there, too. 

Peter is there, a little worse for wear, but alive all the same. 

Charles is on his back, bloody and bruised, but alive, and she's so thankful for that. Her brother is alright.

She panics for just a moment when she can't see Kurt. She can't find him. She can't find her son. He's gone. Had Apocalypse killed him? Her son is gone, he's not here, he's-

He sits bolt upright with a shout and if Raven hadn't laughed, she would have cried. 

He's alive. He's alive. Her family is okay. 

Even Erik is there.

* * *

 

They have to get back to the mansion somehow, but they don't want Kurt to have to teleport all of them that far. He's still a little wobbly on his feet after this time.

They find transportation, and Charles has barely brought up the obvious issue when Erik approaches. He'd stoically been waiting off to the side, not speaking to anyone - not even Raven and Charles - until this point, and even then, he really didn't speak.

He leans down and he scoops up her big brother like he's been doing it forever. Charles barely flinches, almost like Erik had known exactly where to avoid. Charles blushes, hooking his hands around Erik's neck so he wouldn't fall. 

Raven's seen them have physic conversations before, and she's absolutely sure that's what's happening now. "Always, my friend," Erik says, and Raven realizes that's the first thing she's heard him say since the battle. "Always, my friend," Charles echoes, and Raven smiles.

Maybe there's hope for them yet.

* * *

 

They've rebuilt the mansion, the school, and Erik is still hanging around. He's spent most of his time  somewhere secluded, spending the least amount of time possible surrounded by students. He doesn't take meals with them, but he takes tea with Charles. 

Raven's sure one of the reasons Peter hasn't told him yet is because he cant ever find him.

Erik hovers, however. He hovers right around Charles whenever he isn't surrounded my people, and Raven's fairly sure Charles doesn't mind. She's only seen them separated when Charles is teaching, and she's not quite sure where he goes, then.

She's finally managed to catch Charles alone. He's in an old study turned classroom, reading. He looks up before she even enters the room, smiling. "Hello, Raven," he says, lowering his book and smiling. She leans against the doorframe and smiles back. She's not wearing her favourite blonde disguise today but her real self. 

"Where's your class?" she asks, crossing her arms. "And your shadow." Charles laughs. "Oh, he's around," her brother says. "I told him that children don't bite and he should get out a little more. He's cooped up in here with me all the time... I suspect he's getting restless." He paused. "I let the children out early, it is such a lovely day..." 

Raven smiles again and they relax in companionable silence for a moment before Charles speaks again. "Getting ready for your Danger Room training?" he questions, putting a bookmark in his page before setting the book aside and pushing himself a little closer to his sister. 

"Oh, yes," she said with a laugh. "It's going to be very fun for them..." Charles laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, and Raven is so glad he's happy. She hasn't seen him happy like this in too long. "Don't torture them too much, Raven," he chastises gently. "They are just children."

"They aren't children anymore," Raven adds. "They're X-Men." 

They fall quiet again and again it's Charles who breaks the silence. "Your son," he says. "Kurt. Have you told him yet?" Raven pulls a wry smile. "Of course not," she says. "You know me..." Charles smiles. "God help me, I do." Raven stands up straight, thinking. 

"Is he even going to want to know?" she says. "Is he even going to want me?" Charles smiles faintly. "That's something you're going to have to find out," he says. "You really should tell him, Raven. No harm is going to come to him. He deserves to know." 

Charles pauses thoughtfully. "I still don't understand one thing about the two of you," he says finally. Raven frowns slightly. "What?" she asks. Charles looks up at her. "Francis," he says finally. "Why on Earth would you name the poor child Francis of all names?"

Raven lets out a laugh. "I already told you, brother dearest," she says, taking a few steps closer. She leans down and kisses his forehead. "It's a family name." 

"But still!" Charles insists. "Francis. I detested Mother for years because of Francis. Kurt's so sweet, Raven, he doesn't deserve that."

Raven laughs again. "One day," she says, "when you have kids, you'll understand." Charles wrinkles his brows slightly but he's still smiling. "I've already got those," he says. "Plus you and Erik... I'm not sure how much more I can handle!" 

Raven playfully punches his shoulder. "Come on, brother," she says. "You're Charles Xavier. You're a superhero. You can do anything." Charles laughs again. "Oh, Raven," he says, "I doubt that..."

"If Kurt turns out anything like you," she says thoughtfully, "I'll be prouder than I already am. And I'm already exceptionally proud of him..." Charles smiles. "Thank you, Raven," he says, "but really. I'm nothing special." 

_You are to me_ , Raven thinks, but she doesn't say it. 

She's still a little wary about voicing her feelings. She doesn't want to jinx it. She doesn't want to loose Charles again. Last time, she'd willingly left him, and she still hates herself for that. She hates that it took her as long as it did to figure out that their battle took his legs. She doesn't want to loose Kurt.

She rather likes having them both around.

* * *

 

Kurt is brilliant. He's so, so brilliant in their Danger Room training. For a child - no, she corrects herself, he's not a child, he's almost 18 and he's been through a war. He's an X-Man - with his amount of training - that is to say, none - he is truly brilliant. It's almost as if he has an aptitude for battle. Almost as if it's in his blood, his bones. 

She supposes that much is his parents' fault.

She laughs, too, at what the children do for celebration after. 

Scott squeezes Jean - Raven's finally learned her name - in a one-armed hug before she sighs, pulls him down by his collar, and kisses him in the lips. Scott is the only one blushing when they pull away.

Peter whoops in triumph, darting over to Kurt. He scoops up the younger mutant in his arms, tossing him into the air and catching him, carrying him bridal style in a perceptible victory lap around the room. Laughing, Kurt flicks his tail and grabs Peter's collar, disappearing in a puff of blue smoke. They reappear close to the ceiling of the room where Kurt drops Peter. The older man tumbles through the air for a few seconds as Raven watches. He's screaming, probably from pleasure, because she already knows he's an adrenaline junkie. Right before he hits the ground, Kurt reappears, Peter falling right into his arms. He's the one carrying Peter now, although the older man's upper body dips as Kurt gets his grip. Peter yelps as scrambles to find purchase, throwing his hands around Kurt's neck. Kurt's tail winds around Peter's legs. When the speedster finally stops flailing, they're quiet, watching each other.

A voice from the back of the room calls out, "Get it!" 

Raven knows immediately it's Storm. She thinks she likes Storm. 

Peter grins and leans up and plants the biggest kiss on Kurt's cheek. Kurt flushes, the back of his neck and his ears turning a darker shade of blue. Raven hears laughter from the other end of the room, and she smiles at the other ch- she has to stop calling them children - students. 

Peter grins triumphantly and says something to Kurt Raven doesn't catch, but it makes him blush more and it makes Scott laugh. 

She steps back and let's the students pass. Scott and Jean filter past the waiting Charles first, then Kurt with Peter in his arms. Storm exits last, rolling her eyes fondly as she follows them

She had planned to pull him aside and tell him today, but she doesn't want to pull him away from his friends. 

They are more family than she is now, anyway.

* * *

 

"So, where's Erik?" Raven asks when she finally leaves the room, the door sliding shut behind her. Charles smiles faintly. "He's left," he tells her, and Raven smiles, too. It's just been a matter of time, because Erik has always been so restless. But she knows for a fact he'll be back, sooner rather than later. Erik is like an addict and Charles is like his drug. He can't stay away, not now that he's really knows Charles, has spent these past few months with him. 

Erik will back. She's not worried. They never could stay apart for long. 

(She brought this up to Hank, once. He's convinced, he told her, that were he so romantic, that perhaps their atoms were just too close when the universe was created, and they just want to come back together. However, that would create a light too bright, an explosion too much for the rest of the world. For everyone else to be happy, they must be apart. Charles and Erik were made of atoms that wanted so desperately to come back together but were destined never to meet. She hopes that maybe some day they'll find a way.)

"So, how was training?" Charles prompts, pushing himself alongside her as she strides down the hall. "You know," she points out with a laugh. "You watched the whole time." Charles grins, and there's a sparkle in his eyes, a sparkle she saw when he was 11 and idealistic and happy, so excited about going to the circus. 

"True," he says, "but I'm making small talk." Raven smiles, laughing. "It was good," she says. "All of them, they're very good. Young and inexperienced. They make simple mistakes. But they'll learn, in time."

"You're proud of him," Charles says suddenly, and Raven stops, frowning. "I'm proud of all of them," she points out. "Even in one day, they've all come so far." Charles pauses. "But him," he says. "Kurt. You're proud of him, aren't you?"

Raven smiles faintly. "Yeah," she admits. "I'm so proud of him. Charles, I'm so proud of him. You saw him fight, with En Sabah Nur and just now, in training. You've seen how he moves. He's graceful and beautiful and he's so strong and brave. I'm so, so proud."

Charles smiles, too. "You did a good job with him," he says, and Raven snorts. "Really?" she says. "Charles, I gave birth to him. That's about all I did." 

Charles gently traces a circle on the rubber of one of the wheels of his wheelchair with his thumb. He thinks for a moment before he speaks. "I think you've done more than you know," he says. "And really, you should tell him. He deserves to know, and after all this time, you deserve to be with him," Charles points out. 

Raven lets out a puff of air, her lips barely parted. "Alright," she says, "I'll tell him." She pauses for a few seconds before she speaks again. "When did you get so good at this..." She trails off. "Advice... Parenting thing?" 

Charles smiles wryly. "I had you to practice on, didn't I?" he said, shrugging. "You and then the others, and now my students."

Raven laughs. "Well, however it happened, you're great at it, old man," she teases gently. Charles pretends to look offended, one hand on his heart. "Raven!" he says. "I'm not old!" 

Raven punches him in the shoulder again, smiling. 

She's happy.

* * *

 

Raven wakes one night. She's alone in her room, her heart pounding, the last dredges of her dream fading away. She lets out a slow breath, sitting up in bed and running her hands over her face. 

She's never getting back to sleep now. She needs something to drink.

She throws the blankets back and throws her legs over the side, standing up. She pulls on a soft white robe just in case she runs into a student in the halls.

Quietly, she pads out of the room. This reminds her so much of another time, when she would do the exact same thing. She is just smaller in those memories.

She passes her brother's room, Hank's room, the guest room Erik occupies when he stays. She winds slowly through the familiar halls until she finally finds her way to the kitchen. She expects it to be empty and it is.

Raven heads over to the fridge and pulls out the jug of milk - she hopes dearly, for the sake of the other students, that Scott is more sensible than Alex and Sean were and doesn't attempt to drink straight from the jug. Boys.

She stands on her toes to find a mug in a high cabinet. Her slim fingers are wrapped around the handle when she hears a startled voice behind her. She nearly drops the damn mug. "Oh!" the voice says, the accent German and thick. "I am very sorry, _Frau_ Raven, I was thinking no one would be in here this late..." 

Kurt. Of course it's Kurt. Who else would call her _Frau_? _Frau_ Raven, _Herr_ Lehnsherr, _Arzt_ McCoy. He is always so formal with those above him, and it's no use telling him to drop the titles. Who else's 'th's blended into 'z's? Who else would find her here?

She turns, smiling. "No, you're fine, Kurt," she tells him. She hasn't almost called him Eric in a month. Kurt hesitates in the doorway, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. He's dressed in a pair of pajama pants and a long-sleeved shirt that look suspiciously familiar. She must have seen them on Charles when they were young. Of course, Kurt had nothing to bring with him. His eyes are glittering slightly in the dim lighting of the kitchen, his tail flicking slowly back and forth behind him.

She smiles.

"Are you sure, _Frau_ Raven?" Kurt asks again, still waiting just in the doorway. "Of course, Kurt," she says. "Come on in. I'll make you a hot chocolate while I'm over here." She turns back to the cabinet, already reaching up for another mug. "Allow me, _Frau_ Raven," he says from behind her, and there's a puff of blue smoke in front of her and suddenly there he is, crouched on the counter. He tilts his head and smiles at her before unbending his legs slightly and grabbing a mug. He hops off the countertop and sets it down gently, smiling at her, almost as if waiting for approval. He almost - almost - looks like a puppy. She laughs to herself.

"Thank you, Kurt," she says. "It is my pleasure," Kurt says. Raven fetches the rest of the ingredients for their drinks and pops the two mugs of milk in the microwave. She turns from it to see Kurt patiently waiting behind her, still standing. She laughs again, and he frowns slightly in confusion. "Have I done something wrong?" he asks. Raven shakes her head. "No, no," she assures him. "You're perfectly fine."  He relaxes slightly, relieved. 

He's such a people-pleaser, her son, she thinks. He just wants to make people happy. He wants to help people. 

She wonders if that is a trait all his own, too. 

"You can sit down," she says, inclining her head at the table. They have a dining room where they eat most of the time, but there's a small table in the kitchen for late night snacks and things of this particular nature. "Oh!" Kurt says. "Oh, yes. Right." He teleports again, the blue smoke already quickly fading, and when she blinks again, there he is. He's perched on a chair, his knees bent. She almost lets out a laugh. Of course he sits like that.

"Could I..." Raven tapers off, but steels her resolve. Now is the time. Now is the perfect time to tell him, right? It's getting colder and his birthday is coming up and she wants to celebrate with him. She nearly abandons it all together, before when Kurt tilts his head slightly again, blinking curiously at her with his big doe eyes, she melts. She remembers those eyes. 

"Could I ask you a question?" she says finally. Kurt nods. "Of course, _Frau_ Raven," he says. "Ask anything you like and I shall answer it as well as I can." Raven smiles faintly again, leaning against the counter and watching him. "The circus you lived in... How did they find you?" 

She's been dying to know this ever since that day when she rescued him in Berlin, but it has never seemed like the right time to ask. 

Kurt hums slightly at the curious question and thinks for a moment. "It was December," he recalls. He's heard this story many times. "The gypsies, they guess my birthday is somewhere around then, but they do not know for sure. They always celebrated it for me on December the 1st."

Raven swallows. She remembers the day well. It was December, but it wasn't that early... Of course, how could he know that? 

"It was cold," Kurt continues. "Colder than normal for Munich. Strange. They tell me later it is an omen, the cold. A sign." He pauses, thinking again for a moment. "There was... There was a mob of people, after mutants. They were not so kind to us in that time." That was saying something, Raven thinks, because humans aren't very tolerant now.

"They do not know why the mob was there that night," Kurt continues. Raven knows. They were there because of her. They were there following her. "They feared for themselves even though they were not mutant kind, so they stayed hidden in the tents." Kurt pauses before he continues. "The next morning, very early, they were outside. Praying, I believe." Kurt smiles briefly this time.

"One of them... She heard a noise. A demon, she said. A demon, crying." He pulls a wry smile this time, and Raven conceals her emotions, tucking them away. She had left him there, left him to cry. "She went to look for the source of the crying," Kurt says. He stops and reaches up to the back of his neck. After a few seconds, he moves his arm over top of his head, and Raven sees what he moved to grab. 

It's a rosary, a beautiful one, with wooden beads. 

"She brought this with her," he says, holding the wooden cross in his palm. "In case it really was a demon." He laughs again, but this time, it's in a more... Self deprecating way. "I suppose she was right," he muses, almost to himself, and Raven wants him to stop. She wants to tell him that he could never be a demon. He could never be evil. He's so good, so kind. She wants to tell him that his mother loves him, loves him so much.

But she doesn't speak. She doesn't want to interrupt his story. 

He carries on speaking, now toying absentmindedly with the rosary in his hand. "She went searching through the bushes, through the underbrush, searching for the sound. Finally, she saw something that stood out amongst the green. Something... Blue." 

He stops and debates how to continue, she assumes, because he carries on another moment later.

"I was tucked underneath a bush. Almost like someone had put me there intentionally. Had she not heard me wailing, she said... She would not have seen me."

Raven's heartbeat sped up. That's what she had done with him. She'd ran as deep as she dared and tucked him up under a bush because she couldn't make him change. She couldn't make him what they wanted to see. And if they'd caught him with her... Surely they would have slain him right in front of her. 

"Shh," she had told him, putting one finger to her lips, her shoulders shaking slightly with silent sobs. "Hush, _myshka_ ," she had said. " _Myshka_ , I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Mommy's sorry. Mommy will be back, okay? I love you. I love you so much. Mommy's coming back for you."

Leaving him was the hardest thing she's ever done.

She'd come back early that morning when she'd finally escaped them, but her baby was no where to be found. 

But her plan... It had worked. She had hidden him away from the mob. She had kept him safe. 

"I was cold," he recalls. "Naught but the skin on my back and my tail." He smiles faintly at the saying. "Covered in scratches. But... I was alive. Alive, and screaming like a banshee." 

Raven smiles at that.

"She put the rosary around my neck, blessed me, bundled me up, and brought me back to the tents. Bad luck to leave a demon to die, _ja_?" 

Kurt tilts his head, frowning. " _Frau_ Raven?" he asks, leaning forward. "Are you alright? You are... You are crying. Did I say something wrong?"

Raven raises her hand, noting that it's shaking slightly. She touches right under her eyes, and her fingertips come away sparkling with tears. "Oh," she says. "Oh, I... I suppose I am..." She laughs and dries her eyes with the back of her hand. He'd survived, her strong little baby boy. He'd survived. 

He was going to be alright, with or without her. He had been for 18 years, after all. 

She doesn't know if her tears are of happiness, because her son survived because of something she'd done, or sadness because she wasn't there to see him grow up. She supposes they are mostly happiness, because Kurt Wagner turned out wonderfully. 

"How did they treat you?" she asks, pulling the mugs out of the microwave and beginning to stir in the chocolate. Kurt smiles faintly, watching her. "Well," he says. "They cared for me very well. The women that saved me... They passed recently. The circus was different without them, but still..." He shrugs. "Home is home. We traveled a lot. It was... Nice seeing new places, but this..." He nods to the house around him. "It is nice, also, to be in one place... With people who care about you." He pauses again, considering how to continue. 

Raven crosses to the table and hands him a mug of hot chocolate, taking a seat and sipping at her own. " _Danke,_ " Kurt murmurs, dipping his head to take a drink. Raven smiles again. It's just so... Adorable how he does things. Maybe she's still just marveling at the fact that he's here, alive, in front of her. 

Kurt lifts his head, humming slightly. " _Danke_ ," he says again. "It is very good, Frau Raven." Raven shakes her head, lifting her own mug. "Any time, Kurt," she says. He pauses for another few seconds before he keeps speaking. "It was a nice enough place to grow up. I wondered about my birth parents... I think I may try to find them someday." He smiles again, and Raven's heart tightens. "I am thankful for them," he says. "I am, now. When I was younger..." He tapers off. "I wondered why they left me there. I thought maybe, since I was a mutant..." He starts to look sad, and Raven wants to reach out and tell him to stop. She hates already anything that makes him sad, and she's beginning to think she's one of those things.

"Since I was a mutant, I thought maybe they did not want me. They were ashamed of me." Raven wants to scream. She wants to tell him that he's beautiful, he's wonderful, he's perfect, and anyone would be lucky to have him. "But then," he continues, and Raven doesn't get a chance to intervene. "I thought... The world is not kind to mutants. Maybe they were just trying to protect me, _ja_?" He seems as if the last part was merely to reassure himself. 

He shrugs again, takes a sip of hot chocolate, and continues again. "But I would like to thank them, now. I learned much, at the circus. I learned to celebrate differences. I learned what it means to be kind to others. I learned there that I want to help people. I want to be a good person. And I should like to find them and thank them someday, if they are still around, because they... They gave me the chance to do this. They gave me the chance to change the world."

Raven thinks she might start to cry again. It's beautiful, what he says. He wants to find his parents and not bemoan them for leaving him, but to thank them. He wants to thank them for letting him change the world. How has she ever gotten lucky enough to have a son this wonderful?

"You will," she says finally. "Kurt, you will. I promise you that. One day, you will change the world. I'll see to it that you get there." Kurt smiles again, showing his white teeth, and Raven smiles, too. " _Danke, Frau_ Raven," he says again. 

"You don't have to thank me," she says. "Kurt, you never need to thank me." 

Kurt frowns at this, tilting his head. "What do you mean, _Frau_ Raven?" he asks. Her heart jumps into her throat again. This could be it. This could be the time she finally tells her son how she left him, but how she loved him all those years. She could finally seek redemption for her sins. 

"I'm sorry," she says, her hands squeezing the mug in a white-knuckled grip. "Kurt, I'm... I'm so so sorry." Kurt frowns again. " _Frau_ Raven," he says. "What have you to apologize for? You have done nothing but rescue me and help me since we met. You have done me no wrong." 

_This is hard_ , she thinks. _This is so, so hard._ But she's done so many hard things. What's one more?

"I've done more than you know," she manages to force out. "It... The day the women from the circus found you, it was... It was two days after your birthday." Kurt looks down, that adorable little frown still curving his lips, and counts on his fingers. "That means my birthday is..." He tapers off. " _Frau_ Raven, how do you-" 

She cuts him off. "I'm so sorry," she says again. "When you were young... When you were just a baby, Kurt, you used to... You use to do this thing where you..." She swallows and releases her cup, holding up her index finger. "You used to take your little tail... It was so small then, but strong already." It was a sign, she thinks now. A sign that the boy it belonged to was going to be so, so strong. He was going to have to be.

"You took it, your little tail... And you wrapped it around your mother's finger. When she was nursing you, holding you... You wrapped your tail around her finger like..." She stops and doesn't finish. She had been about to say _like she'd disappear if you let go._

Kurt looks even more confused now. " _Frau_ Raven," he continues slowly. "Did you... Did you know my birth mother?" Mother. It sounds like _muzz-zare_ in his voice, and she loves how it sounds. 

"I did," Raven says, and her voice is shaking, like her shoulders. A slight tremor, but still there. "She... She didn't want to leave you," she says. "Kurt, she loves you. You mother, she loves you so much. She still does. She was trying to protect you when she left you there. The mob, they... They were following her. If they caught her, and you were with her, they would have killed you. She hid you because it was... It was the only chance you had. She went back for you, but you were already gone."

There's a lump in her throat, but she pushed past it. 

"She thought you were dead. For 18 years, she's... She's never stopped thinking about you, and Kurt, she... She loves you so, so very much." 

Raven swallows again. "Kurt..." Her voice fails her and she stops. "Kurt," she tries again. "I... I'm sorry," she falters. Kurt tilts his head slightly. He opens his mouth to speak, and his voice is soft, gentle. _"Frau_ Raven..." he says. 

"I'm your mother," she blurts out. "I left you there and I'll understand if you hate me and never want to speak to me again but I had to tell you because you deserve to know and Kurt, I'm so sorry-"

" _Frau_ Raven," Kurt says, but Raven plows on. 

"They would've killed you if they'd caught me with you and I couldn't do it, I couldn't make you change, Kurt, I couldn't make you change, it just never occurred to me that a child of mine wouldn't change, but you can teleport like your father and that's so amazing and you're perfect, Kurt, and-"

" _Frau_ Raven," Kurt says again, but once again she doesn't stop. 

"I thought about you every day, Kurt, every single day, and your birthday, I thought you were dead and I prayed for you and-"

" _Mutter_ ," Kurt says, insistently. 

Raven finally stops speaking, her hands falling limp to the table. "Sorry," she says lamely. "Do you..." She realizes she's been looking at the table the whole time and hasn't looked up at Kurt once. She pulls her gaze upward and swallows. "Do you hate me?" she whispers. "I... I left you there in the col because I couldn't protect you. Don't you just... Don't you hate me?" 

Kurt smiles faintly. "Maybe," he says, tilting his head slightly. "A little bit. But not... Not the harsh kind of hate. More like... More like I'd yell, ' _Mutter_ , _I hate you_ ,' and then... Then teleport up to my room. I would have a room, which is nice. I've never had... A room, like I do here." He nods to the walls of the kitchen. "But then... A few minutes later... You would come up to my room and tell me dinner is ready, and you would hug me... And then we'd go downstairs and eat dinner together. Maybe watch a movie afterwards. Play a game." He pauses, flicking his tail and looking up at her. "Then you'd kiss me goodnight and tell me you love me and then I'd go to bed. Like... Family." 

Raven swallows, wiping her eyes. She's not a very emotional person, but Kurt... He brings it out of her. "So, yes, I suppose," he says, his lips curling upwards. "I hate you a little. But not really." 

Raven lets out a choked sob. She pushes her chair back and stands up, her hands at her side with her fingers curled slightly. "Could I... Could I hug you?" she asks. Kurt smiles wider as he stands up, too. He doesn't answer, not with words; but suddenly he's right in front of her, his arms wrapping around her neck, and he squeezes her tight. 

Raven lets out a choked sob and then her hands are on his back and she's squeezing his right back. He's so warm and thin and blue. He's her son, and he's right here, and he doesn't hate her, and he's right here. Even after all these months knowing him, she still can't get over the fact that he's right here and he's alive. 

She's crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks, and she buries her face in his neck. "Kurt," she sobs. "Kurt... I love you so much, Kurt. Oh, I love you so much..." 

Kurt laughs too, and then he's still holding her and he won't let go. She doesn't want him to. " _Ich liebe dich auch,_ Mutter," he says against her, and her heart swells. 

Raven sinks to the ground, and he's right there with her. How strange this might look to onlookers, a grown woman hugging a teenager on the floor of the kitchen in the middle of the night, but she doesn't care. She has her son back and he loves her, and she's never letting go of him again.

Eventually, her tears dry up and she slowly pulls away. "Thank you so much, Kurt," she says, and then they're sitting across from each other on the tile. Kurt's legs are crossed and he's smiling. "It is my pleasure, _Mutter_ ," he says. He reaches for his rosary, the one that hangs from his neck, and he holds the cross in his hand. 

"In the circus, the Catholics... They would give a rosary to someone they cared about," Kurt explains. "I always planned to give this to my mother. I've always worn it, just in case I would meet her. I... I care about her... You," he amends, shyly looking up at her, smiling. "And I... I want you to have it." He holds it out, and Raven's first instinct is to refuse it. But he's her son and he's telling her he loves her. 

With slightly shaking fingers, she takes it. She holds the rosary in her lap for a moment before she looks back up at him. "I don't deserve this," she says. "I don't... I don't have anything for you."

Kurt laughs softly. "You have given me enough," he says. 

Raven lifts the rosary and hangs it around her neck, tucking the cross under her shirt. "I love it," she finds herself saying. "Thank you." Kurt smiles shyly again, ducking his head a little bit. Raven laughs again, her eyes still a little damp. "Come here, _myshka_ ," she says, and Kurt scoots over to sit next to her. She puts an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close to her.

"Thank you so much, Kurt," she says softly. "For everything." He smiles again, curling up against her side. He tucks his feet underneath him and wraps his tail around his back, his eyes fluttering shut. " _Ich liebe dich_ ," he says sleepily and Raven smiles, too. "I love you, too, _liebling_ ," she says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

She's not sure how long they sit there on the floor, together, but she  doesn't want to move. Eventually, Kurt falls asleep. She can feel his steady breathing against her side, and his beautiful eyes have fluttered shut. She doesn't want to wake him, so she decides to try and carry him. She's not very large, but neither is he. She's stronger than she looks, and Kurt, too, is light. She thinks it has to do with his mutation. She wraps her arms around him again and lifts him up, and she's right. He is very light. 

Raven manages, carrying her son through the darkened halls to his room. He left the door open when he wandered down to the kitchen, so she doesn't need to put him down to open the door. 

His room is sparse. It has a bed, a desk, a window, and a dresser. There are no posters on the walls, no knickknacks on the desk or the window sill. She remembers that when he came to the school, he had nothing but the clothes on his back. Most of the clothes in the dresser are new things they've bought for him or hand-me-downs from Charles. 

She crosses to the bed and lays him down. The blankets are already pulled back from his retreat for his midnight escapade, so she doesn't need to mess with those, either. She pulls the blankets back over her, tucking them in on her side. "Goodnight, _myshka_ ," she whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead.  

He stirs slightly, barely opening his eyes. "Goodnight, _Mutter_ ," he mumbles, turning over, and Raven laughs. 

"Sweet dreams," she says as she leaves the room, softly pulling his door closed behind her.

She doesn't need sweet dreams. She's living the sweetest one of all.

* * *

 

The next morning when she says Charles at breakfast, her rosary is resting against her chest, against the fabric of her night shirt. Her brother looks over at her and smiles. She knows he can feel the happiness she's feeling because she's projecting something terrible, she knows. She can't help it. 

"Congratulations, Raven," he greets as she passes him an English muffin. "It's a boy, right?" he asks, and Raven laughs. 

"It's a boy," she agrees.

* * *

 

 A few days later, she sees Kurt and Peter walking around the grounds of the school. They're walking, which is odd, because it's Peter. It's sweet, she thinks, as Peter ducks his head to gently kiss Kurt on the forehead. 

She smiles as she closes the front door behind her. She's going out to grab a few essentials for the weekend that they've run out of, so she's pale and blonde. 

Kurt catches her eyes and brightens. He waves at her and turns and says something to Peter, tugging on the older mutant's hand. He looks so excited that Raven stops, leaning against the front door. 

With a puff of dark blue smoke, Kurt appears in front of her, Peter on his arm. "Whoa," Peter says, blinking. "Still not used to that..." 

Raven laughs, standing up straight and looking over the two boys. "Hey, Kurt," she greets. "Peter." Kurt grins, bouncing up and down on his heels. " _Mutter_ ," he says. " _Mutter,_ I want you to meet someone." He tugs on Peter's hand, and the speedster waves with his free hand. "Hey, Kurt's mom," Peter says, and Raven smiles. Even though they've met quite a few times before, it's nice to pretend she's meeting Kurt's boyfriend for the first time. It's nice pretending they're normal. "I'm Peter," the speedster says, sticking his hand out. "Kurt's boyfriend."

Raven smiles again and sticks her hand out, shaking Peter's hand. "Nice to meet you, Peter," she says. "And you can call me Raven." They release each other after the shake, and a Raven crosses her arms, prepared to play the role of protective mother. "What are your intentions with my son?" she asks, pretending to be harsh, because she knows exactly what they are. They have met multiple times. 

"I'm gonna love the fuck out of him and make him pasta for dinner when we get back inside, Ms. Xavier," Peter says, saluting her with one hand. Kurt's beside him the whole time, still beaming and vibrating slightly. He's always been so happy. That trait is definitely just his. 

Raven laughs, uncrossing her arms to push her blonde hair away from her face. "I suppose I can allow that," she says. "But remember Peter," she adds. "Take care of my son or I'll-" Peter cuts her off, grinning mischievously. "I gotcha, ma'am," he says. "You'll tear me limb from limb and make sure I'm conscious the whole time, blah blah blah." 

Raven laughs again. She really hopes these two are happy. "And don't you forget it," she says. "I love you, Kurt," she says, touching his shoulder as she passes, heading down the drive. "See you around, Peter." 

Kurt waves at her as she goes. "Good-bye, Mutter!" he calls, and Raven can't help but smiling. 

Their little bit of normal is a little late, but she loves it. She loves it so, so much.

She wouldn't trade it for anything.\

* * *

 

She doesn't realize until she's in the car she 'introduced' herself as Raven. 

* * *

 

Raven is sitting between Kurt and Charles for dinner one night, the rest of the students scattered around the table when he asks her. 

" _Mutter_ ," he says, and she looks up from her meal to answer him. "Yes, Kurt?" she asks. He pauses, thinking before he continues. " _Mutter_ , if you didn't have to hide me... What would you have called me?" 

Raven frowns slightly. "What would I have called you?" she repeats. " _Ja_ ," Kurt says. "My name. What would my name have been?" Raven pauses for another moment, taking a bite of her mashed potatoes. "Xavier," she starts. "First of all, you'd be an Xavier." 

Kurt smiles, flicking his tail. She knows from what he's told her that his surname is entirely his own. He's never belonged to a real family, had a real family name. "Then..." Raven trails off, smiling, perfectly aware that Charles is listening in while feigning interest in his potatoes. 

"Then I would have named you Eric." Kurt tilts his head slightly, frowning. "Like _Herr_ -" She cuts him off. "Not exactly," she says with a laugh. "With a 'c'. Because you're not him, Kurt. You were going to be different, but... A memory. Besides, you were supposed to be American." She smiles again, and Kurt does too. 

"Eric Xavier," Kurt says, pausing and looking at his hands. "Eric Xavier..." He trails off and Raven keeps speaking. "Your middle name would have been Francis," she adds. Kurt looks up at her and laughs softly. "Why Francis?" he asks. "Well," Raven says, "it's a family name. My brother's middle name."  

Kurt beams again, his white teeth sticking out against his blue skin. "Family name," he says. "I like it." He pauses again, and he seems to hesitate this time. "May I..." He puts his fork down and furrows his brow, struggling with wording his question. "May I keep it?" he blurts out finally.

Raven frowns. "Keep it?" she asks. "What do you mean keep it, _myshka_?" Kurt blushes slightly. "Well," he stammers. "At the circus, I was always just... Just Kurt. Or Nightcrawler. I did not have a middle name. Do may I... Keep that one?" 

Raven laughs, putting her hand on his shoulder and leaning forward to kiss him on the forehead. "Of course, _myshka_ ," she says. "It's your name. You can do with it what you like."

Raven moves her hand when she has to dodge a flying salt shaker thrown by Scott to Peter, who really doesn't have very good aim. Kurt catches it and passes it to the intended recipient before turning back to his plate. "Kurt Francis Wagner," he muses, glancing back up at his mother. "I like it."

She likes it, too.

* * *

 

It's almost Kurt's birthday, and the crowd at the school has thinned out considerably with many of the students heading home for the holidays. Hank is still there, of course, and Raven's thinking maybe with everything finally going right, it's almost time to speak to him again. 

Left is only Charles, Raven, Hank, Kurt, Peter, Storm, and a handful of other students. Peter was staying for another week before heading home to be with his mom and his sister. He hadn't wanted to leave before Kurt's birthday. Jean had elected to follow Scott home. 

They are all eating dinner together when it happens. Dinner is a playful affair, bowls of sides and meats passed around, cheerful discussion, laughter. It's happy, and it makes Raven happier just being there. She's never seen Charles this alive, this in his element, except perhaps when she's watching him teach. "Peter!" he calls. "I'd put the macaroni down if I were you..." 

Raven laughs, glancing over at Kurt. "Control your boyfriend," she says with a smile, nudging him with her elbow. Kurt smiles too. "He's his own person, I can't do anything about it," he says innocently, and Raven grins. 

She's just so happy now.

She looks on her other side where Hank sits. He hasn't said much, but then again, at dinner, he never does. He's simply watching the proceedings, smiling faintly. 

"Hey, Hank," she says finally, and he looks up. "Hm?" She pauses for a moment. "I was wondering if maybe you might want to-"

She stops when there is a rap at the door. Conversation stops as everyone looks around the table. Everyone is here. Who could it be? 

Charles puts his fork down and swallows, pushing himself back from the table. "I'll go get it," he says. "Carry on." The children go back to eating, but Raven and Hank don't. "I'll go with him," Raven says. "Watch the kids." Hank nods once and directs his attention to the table.

Charles is already halfway to the door when she catches up to him. "I'm perfectly capable of answering a door alone, Raven," he calls back to her, and she shakes her head. "I know. Just curious." Charles smiles and shakes his head. "Alright," he says with a sigh. 

"Who is it?" he calls when he's next to the large oak front door, Raven a few feet behind him. 

Raven knows who it is a millisecond before she hears the voice. 

"An old friend," a voice calls from the other side. 

Charles pulls the door open as fast as he can, and when he does, there's Erik. He's waiting right on the other side of the door, dressed in dark pants and a dark purple long-sleeved shirt. There's no sign of the helmet.

Erik swallows as Charles waits for him to speak. "I wanted to come home," Erik says finally, "if you'll have me." Charles smiles right away. "Of course, my friend," Charles says. "You are always welcome here." He pushes himself backwards and Erik grabs the door, stepping just inside enough to let it close behind him. He looks up and meets Raven's eyes before looking back down at Charles.

Charles spins himself around so he's facing Raven, and he's smiling so widely. "We're just in the middle of dinner, my friend," Charles says as they make their way down the hall together, towards the kitchen. Raven steps out of the way, waiting patiently. As they pass her, Charles speaks again.

"Welcome home," he says, and Raven can't help but smile at that. Charles is home, and Erik is, too. Kurt has found a home, and in all of them, Raven has found hers. She is home, with her son, her brother, Hank, Erik. She is home, and she wouldn't trade it for anything. 

"Welcome home," she echoes, and she follows them into the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> myshka - mouse  
> Frau - Ms.  
> Herr - Mr.  
> Arzt - Doctor  
> ja - yes  
> Danke - thank you  
> Mutter - Mother  
> Ich liebe dich auch - I love you, too  
> liebling - darling


End file.
